


To Death Your Eyes Will Open

by Lacrimula_Falsa



Series: The Dead, The Dying And The Depressed [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death, Season 4 Episode 3: Brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 02:19:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3191633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacrimula_Falsa/pseuds/Lacrimula_Falsa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the years, Noonien Soong had often been accused of trying to play god. But if he had anything in common with a deity, it was most likely a Klingon one. One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Death Your Eyes Will Open

**Author's Note:**

> _Disclaimer:_ All praise the Great Bird of the Galaxy. I do not own any part of the StarTrek franchise/universe. I profit from comments only.
> 
> So I finally managed to drag my StarTrek muse out of hiding and she handed me this little gem. Ahem. I hope you enjoy it. This is set during the end of the episode "Brothers".

Noonien Soong was not the type to believe in life-changing revelations in the face of danger or sudden enlightenment on the brink of death.

He could not, however, deny that to lie dying in his laboratory, his younger son crouching over him, looking sorrowful despite his alleged lack of emotions, brought forth a certain amount of clarity.

And while his life didn't exactly pass before his eyes, the moment still dredged up a few memories.

Juliana's smiling face.

A pale android hand, dragging him towards some new discovery with unrelenting force.

Identical pale faces, staring up at him with curiosity or confusion filling their eyes.

The startled, confused look in those eyes when the neural pathways in their brain started to loose cohesion.

_He had never realized that there was a plea in that look. A silent entreaty not to let them go. Not to let them_ die.

_Why had he never paid attention to that?_

Simple. He did not want to.

Because shutting off a machine you could not get to function was easy. And machines did not look _pleading._

Children did. And loosing a child you were desperately trying to save was… _hard_.

Hard was, of course, not an adequate word for…that.

The realisation that he most likely was a terrible father was not a new one. But in that moment it hit with shocking clarity.

" _They are my_ children _, Noonien. I have every right to be upset."_

Juliana had understood better. Sooner.

Had been much more aware of the consequences of playing god.

Playing god.

He had often been accused of that, over the years.

But if he really had anything in common with a deity, he mused, it was most likely a Klingon one.

_Gods, killed by their own creations._

Noonien Soong, slain by the hand he had built.

Juliana would indubitably have made a comment about his 'ego-problem' and 'melodramatic narcissism' at that.

She would have been right, too.

That thought made him chuckle, though his body barely managed to make a sound.

_He really_ was _dying._

It was not a Klingon but a Vulcan poem* that suddenly came to him and he had no idea where the hell he had picked _that_ up or why he even remembered it. It was fitting nonetheless.

_At the end of your life, when emotion becomes unimportant, experience becomes non-relevant and even logic becomes remote, you shall close your eyes and know with your final breath:_

_There will be peace. For death means closure._

_And secure in that knowledge you shall close your eyes._

_And to death your eyes will open._

His last thought was if his spirit would go to Gre'thor.

**Author's Note:**

> * I have no idea what Vulcan poetry would be like, except most likely rather matter-of-fact. This is just my idea of it, so…


End file.
